


Day 8: "Hey, Hey, This is No Time to Sleep"

by SpiderShell



Series: FEBUWHUMP 2021: IronDad [8]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: FebuWhump2021, Gen, Peter Parker Cries, Peter Parker Deserves Better, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Poor Peter Parker, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Sad Tony Stark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-13 01:27:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29270250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpiderShell/pseuds/SpiderShell
Summary: When one comes back to life after five years of being presumed dead, things are never the same. People move on, things are forgotten, and you no longer have a place in the world. Of course, you are welcomed back with open arms - it’s a dream come true that you’re home - but it cannot be denied that there has been change. And if you’re like me, change has never been my friend. No matter if you’re a superhero or a civilian, when the entire world has moved on, you can’t help but feel out of place. Sometimes unwanted.Will I always feel this way?
Relationships: Happy Hogan & Peter Parker, Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe) & Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe), Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Series: FEBUWHUMP 2021: IronDad [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2136318
Comments: 6
Kudos: 53





	Day 8: "Hey, Hey, This is No Time to Sleep"

**Author's Note:**

> I decided to change the prompt phrase to "hey, hey, this is no _place_ to sleep" to fit this angsty one-shot my mind created (fun fact: i had a completely different idea for this xD)
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

When one comes back to life after five years of being presumed dead, things are never the same. People move on, things are forgotten, and you no longer have a place in the world. Of course, you are welcomed back with open arms - it’s a dream come true that you’re home - but it cannot be denied that there has been change. And if you’re like me, change has never been my friend. No matter if you’re a superhero or a civilian, when the entire world has moved on, you can’t help but feel out of place. Sometimes unwanted. 

Will I always feel this way?

Mr. Stark survived the battle at the compound. Dr. Cho got to him in time and even though his heart had stopped, he was hooked up to a defibrillator . He was unconscious for a few days, but when he woke up, he was just the same as before. _Almost._

Sure, he had a new prosthetic arm (Dr. Cho hadn’t been able to save it - it had been too damaged by the force of the infinity stones) but something else was different, something to do with me. I could never put my finger on it. 

I was one of the first people allowed in to see him after he woke up. I felt like an intruder, huddling around his bed with his family and close friends; after all, I was only really his intern, not part of his family. 

When Tony woke up, his family were overjoyed, hugging him and crying. He looked just as overjoyed to see them, and I will admit that I felt a pang of jealousy at seeing him hug and fuss over his daughter. Of course, I have no idea where that came from. I was never Tony’s child, so why should I feel jealous?

I’m actually happy that he has Morgan; she’s a wonderful little girl.

I had tried to slip through the huddle of people towards the door, intending to leave Tony and his family alone, but then he had caught sight of me. There was an emotion on his face that I had never seen before as he had slowly reached his prosthetic arm out to me, my name exhaled from his lips like it was something beautiful and precious. 

“Come here,” he had said to me and I stepped forward, a grin plastered on my face.

He had gripped my hand tightly, as if he was afraid I would slip through his fingers, staring at me wordlessly. It was like he was memorising my face, and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't doing the same. I had heard his heartbeat fade to a stop, and even now, I was terrified that he was just a dream. 

I'd slipped out soon after that - Tony had drifted off to sleep -, waiting in the kitchen for someone to come so that I wouldn't leave without saying goodbye. I just couldn’t stand it anymore - watching him interact with his family and trying to cope with the jealousy that shouldn’t be here. I knew I was being selfish, but in a way I was letting Tony be truly happy, alone with his family. 

Colonel Rhodes had been the first one to appear, and with a guilty smile, I told him of my imminent departure, He had insisted on driving me back to Queens, and though the drive was awkwardly quiet, I was grateful for the company. If there’s one thing I hate most of all, it’s being alone.

* * *

I lean against the smooth leather seat of Happy’s car. Tapping idly at my phone to pass the time, I sneak a glance at the man himself, who sits in the driver’s seat, his attention fully on the road. I don’t expect Happy to talk to me - he never used to _before._

It's been a few months since everyone came back. Mr. Stark’s mostly healed now, and for some reason or other, he invited me to stay at his house by the lake for a few days. I'm both dreading and desperately looking forward to it.

Mr. Stark is waiting on the front porch when we pull up. He claps a hand on my shoulder, grinning, when Happy deposits me in front of him. "Glad you could come, kid," he says, and for a moment, all my fears of what could happen disappear.

They reappear with the exuberant entrance of one Miss Morgan H. Stark. She pushes the door open and runs to me, flinging her small arms around my waist with a cry of "Peter, Peter!". I smile and hug her back, letting her drag me off to see Gerald the alpaca once she lets go. 

Everywhere I look, I see reminders that people have moved on. I see it in the look on Tony's face as he gazes at his daughter. I see it in the wedding ring on Miss Potts' -no, Mrs. Stark's - finger. I see it in the photo frames on the wall. I see it in the packed boxes of my old belongings in the farthest corner of Aunt May's attic. I see it in the memorial monuments of the disappeared in Central Park. I see it everywhere. 

Dinner is a lovely affair, if not for the fact that the unusually domestic scene has my chest tightening and tears prickling in the back of my eyes. Afterwards, we all go to sit on the couch (a Disney movie I've never seen before starts to play), but all I can think of is five lost years and the swirling cacophony of nostalgia, jealousy, fear, anger, and joy curling tight behind my sternum. 

Now it's Morgan's bedtime, and both Mr. Stark and Pepper follow her upstairs, laughing at the childish nonsense she babbles at them. I am left alone on the couch. I wait. And wait. And wait. The shard of loneliness digs deep into my soul, like the shrapnel that once was clawing its way towards Mr. Stark's heart. 

My sensitive hearing picks up what Pepper and Mr. Stark are saying upstairs. My name never crosses their lips once, and I don't know whether to be angry or upset, or a mix of both. It's not their fault. I'm a forgettable, pain-in-the-butt kid who was tossed back into their lives without warning. I understand if they're annoyed.

"I love you, Morgan, my sweet angel. I love you," Mr. Stark cooes to his daughter, and that's when it's too much. I run to the back door, making sure to close it quietly so as not to disturb the family upstairs, and sprint towards the lake, abruptly settling myself at the very end of the dock, toes inches above the water. 

I take the time to think. 

I work several things out.

I realise that I'm jealous of Morgan because of the love her parents have for her. For months before the disappearances, I had craved affection from Mr. Stark, longing for a simple pat on the shoulder or even a hug. It was very rare that he gave them to me (especially hugs. The first time, and the only time he's ever hugged me was at the battle at the compound) and when he did, I felt like I'd been gifted the moon. I see Mr. Stark freely giving his daughter affection, kisses, hugs, and I want what she has _so badly._ I know it's wrong because Mr. Stark isn't even my father, but I don't know how to get rid of these feelings. 

I feel like I'm not important to anyone anymore.

I lean my head back against a wooden pole and close my eyes.

* * *

Footsteps on boards jar me awake. "Hey, hey, this is no place to sleep," Mr. Stark murmurs, hands gripping my shoulders to pull me further from the edge. "Why're you out here, kid? I've been looking for you."

Mr. Stark's voice is so soft and caring, and as I turn my head to look at him, I burst into tears. I bury my face in my knees, pulled up tight to my chest.

Suddenly, there are hands pulling at me, pulling, pulling, and now I'm pressed to a warm chest and arms are wound tightly around me. I sob into Mr. Stark's shirt, fisting the material childishly, as he rests his cheek on the top of my head. 

Wow. 

I feel loved.

"What's wrong, Pete?" Mr. Stark asks, one hand rubbing my back encouragingly. "Why are you upset?"

"E-everyone's moved on and there's no place for me anymore!" I wail, crying harder. 

Mr. Stark freezes. "What?" he asks, his voice sounding wrecked and broken. 

"People are always forgetting about me and I..I feel so alone!" I cry, feeling safe for the first time since Uncle Ben died. 

"Oh. Oh, kid. Oh my gosh. Pete, I'm so sorry," Mr. Stark says, squeezing me tighter. "I didn't know you felt this way! And here I am, leaving you alone for ages. I'm so sorry."

"Tis okay," I mumble. "You're here now."

"I'm never going to let you go," Mr. Stark promises. "I love you, Peter. I never got the chance to tell you before...before...before…" he trails off. 

I wrap my arms around him. "I love you too," I whisper to the man who is like my dad. 

"Come on, Pete," Mr. Stark says, lifting us both to our feet. "I think it's time for another Star Wars marathon."

"What about Morgan?" I ask before I can stop myself. 

"Your little sister is asleep," Mr. Stark replies softly. "I do however guarantee that she will be up at the crack of dawn, so if she wants to play with you, feel free to send her back to bed."

I grin at the words, a warm fuzzy feeling settling in my chest where the chaos of emotions once screamed. 

I may have missed five years, but now I know that I'll never be alone.

**Author's Note:**

> Love you guys, and see ya tomorrow!! ✌🤟


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